Prologue: Stayin' Alive- A Tale of Mercenaries in
by DuAnn Cowart
Summary: The Six-Pack. The Seventies. What more do you need to know?


Standard disclaimers apply- 

Rated: PG

  
  
  
  


Prologue: Stayin' Alive: 

A Tale of Mercenaries in Polyester

  
  
  
  


The dark figure crouched in the shadows of the safehouse

hall, one hand pressed flat against the cold stone floor

of the safehouse as his keen orange eyes scanned the

corridor for any hint of movement of the building's

formidable residents. 'Clear,' he noted, face impassive as

he rose and despite his bulk ran lightly down the hallway

towards his destination. For all his external composure,

though, his heart thudded quickly in his chest as it

always did on missions, pulse quickening in response to

the adrenaline coursing though his body. 

  
  


'I live for this shit,' he thought, running one hand

through his pale hair as the other unconsciously patted the

bulging pouch strapped to his right thigh. Imagining the

satisfaction if he completed the job, he grinned, one

sharp canine tooth glinting dangerously in the flourescent

light. 

  
  


He didn't even pause when the hallway deadended into

another corridor running perpendicular to it, merely spun

on a booted heel and turned right, huge muscles rippling

underneath his customary black fatigues as he did so. He

looked right up at the surveillance cameras as he passed,

favoring one with a wink and a quick salute. He chuckled

deeply, a bass rumble sounding low in his huge chest.

  
  


About halfway down a hallway littered with them, he

stopped, standing outside a plain, inconspicuous, and-

best of all- unlocked door. He stepped inside.

  
  


This room at the heart of the citadel was small, dark, and

lined wall to wall with an incredibly sophisticated

computer system that was still, even with everything he'd

seen in a decade of mercenary work, breathtaking. 'Amazing.'

  
  


Breaking himself out of his reverie, he snapped open the

pouch and took from it a plastic cartridge with strange,

bright markings on its cover. Thumb caressing it gently as

he did so, he deftly slid the cartridge into a slot in the

machine and entered the appropriate command sequence

necessary to activate it. 

  
  


Sensitive ears heard the machine whirr as it read the

precious information contained within the sheath, and he

grinned broadly in triumph. Then, spinning away from the

huge machine in one fluid, practiced motion, he smoothly

ducked and rolled out of the room to rush down the hall to

safety, arms instinctively raised to protect his head

against the explosion that was soon to come.

  
  


****************

  
  


In one of the several upstairs bedrooms, the owner of the

safehouse stirred in his sleep, troubled by the nightmares

that were his constant nighttime companions. Brown hair

beginning to silver around the temples was matted with

perspiration, and the usually slight scars around his

right eye stood out bright red against a face drained of

all color. Fists- one flesh and bone, one shiny metal-

clenched tightly in the orange and brown plaid sheet.

Cracked lips parted to whisper "Jen, no, don't. . . ." 

  
  


Across the hall, in the relative quiet of the night, his

teammates, his companions-in-arms, slept as well. During

these hours of rest, exhausted bodies and weary minds

renewed resources necessary to pursue the trying lives

they had chosen. Between jobs as they were now, this time

of replenishment of depleted reserves of strength was

especially important. In the field, during battle, days

might pass without sleep or rest, and professionals such

as those presently residing in this outpost were well

aware of that fact.

  
  


Suddenly, without warning, this brief respite from the

chaos of the life they had chosen, this precious somnolent

tranquility was shattered by a blaring cacophony of sound

so loud that it shook the fortified concrete walls. Up and

down the hall, bodies shot up out of burrowed cocoons of

warmth and instinctively, if blearily, staggered out to

deal with the situation.

  
  


Three men and one woman in various states of undress met

in the hall. The first man out- a towering mountain of a

muscle, almost seven feet tall- began issuing orders

immediately in a voice accustomed to command, a voice that

held no hint of the nightmares he'd fought so fiercely

only moments before. He had to yell to make himself heard

over the booming sounds shaking the fortress, and his left

eye flashed once in the dim hall. "G.W., check the

perimeter. Standard defensive procedure, people. Hammer,

get to the comm system. Dom, go-" 

  
  


He suddenly stopped. He stopped speaking mid-sentence, and

a look of purest disdain formed on his handsome chiseled

features. Inhaling sharply, his fists clenched once more

by his sides. A quick glance down the hall to a

still-empty bedroom verified his suspicions, and only a

repeated calm-inducing mantra from his youth kept him from

exploding in anger. 

  
  


The pale young woman at his side looked up at him in

concern. Following his glance down the hall, she, too,

took note of the sole member of their band who wasn't

present. Violet eyes widened in dawning comprehension, and

her lips twitched, fighting back laughter. Lowering the

large rifle grabbed in haste from beside her bed to the

floor, she held out a slender, muscled arm to halt the

other two men dashing purposefully down the hall.

"Waitaminit, guys." Her voice was low and amused, and a

bare foot began tapping unconsciously on the tiled floor. 

  
  


A well-built black man of medium height, already halfway

down the hall, snorted derisively "What? Don't wanna get

your nighty dirty, girl? Get to work and stop whining."

  
  


She didn't even spare him a glance. She did, however, pull

the belt of her thin robe tighter, and responded in an

annoyed tone. "Screw you, too, Hammer. I'm serious. Nate,"

she turned to the man who had barked out orders. "Tell

'em." At his disgusted look Domino, unable to contain her

amusement any longer, burst out in loud peals of laughter. 

  
  


Nathan Dayspring, the time-traveling mercenary known as

Cable, glared at her and growled something very vile in a

beautiful lilting language that ended in "He's a dead

man," muttered finally in English. Wincing at a

particularly loud note assaulted his sensitive hearing, he

sighed and turned to the other men. "Focus past the boom and listen." 

  
  


Puzzled glances changed to disgusted understanding as the

booming bass klaxon tones solidified into strains of

something resembling music. The sheer decibel level made

understanding difficult, but as the shifting, undulating

notes changed shape and took form, and all confusion was

quickly erased.

  
  


The blaring attack on their sleep-fogged senses, the

attack from an unnamed foe, the incredibly loud crackling

noises coming from every intercom and speaker in the

building coalesced into a distinct rhythm. The senseless

cacophony of sound lengthened into beats, into rhythms,

into . . . music? 

  
  


In the dead of the night, breaking the quiet calm, the

distinct strains of "Funkytown" shook the Appalachian

headquarters of the mercenary band called the Wild Pack

down to its very foundations.

~Dum dum dum . . Won't you take me to . . .~ 

  
  


The walls shook.

  
  


~Dum dum dum . . . Funky-Town?~ 

  
  


The rafters creaked.

  
  


~Dum dum dum . . . Won't you take me to. . .~ 

  
  


The floor reverberated.

  
  


~Dum dum dum . . . Fun-kee-Town?. . .~ 

  
  


Blood pressures rose.

  
  


Putting her hands over her ears, Domino, eyes still

twinkling in amusement, yawned. "I'm goin' back to bed,

and I'm tellin' you- anybody wakes me up before noon, and

it's their ass."

  
  


Waving a sleepy farewell to the others, she turned and

went back to her room. 

  
  


Cable, eyes still haunted with night terrors, watched her

leave, his expression unreadable. Looking away, he sighed

"Please take care of this, G.W.." Rubbing his eyes blearily,

he walked away and back to his room, broad shoulders bent

with the weight of memory. As a last thought, he yelled

over the raucous rhythms of the music "And if any of

you see him before I do, tell Grizzly he's got double

guard duty this week." 

  
  


Bridge looked at Hammer, who shrugged. His dark eyes

narrowed. "Son of a bitch," was all he said, then he too

returned to his room.

  
  


G.W. Bridge, muscles tense in anger, bounded down the

stairwell and through a wall of iridescent orange beads to

stalk down the hall towards the computer com center.

Standing in front of it with his hands over his ears, he

punched a round button with far more vigor than was

absolutely necessary. A simple 8-track cassette shot out,

the music stopped, and the room was full of blessed

silence. Finally able to think clearly for the first time

since he'd been awakened, G.W. yanked the tape from the

player that Grizzly had just last week insisted be

incorporated into the computer system's mainframe.

Dropping it to the floor, he stepped on it, crushing it to

pieces. Leaving broken shards on the mustard colored 

floor, he stormed back to his bed, plotting his teammate's 

demise all the while. 

  
  
  
  


Outside the building, perched on a fallen tree stump,

Grizzly's huge body shook with silent laughter. When the

music abruptly stopped, he took another puff of his cigar.

'It was worth it,' he grinned, and blew a satisfied stream

of thick smoke into the clear night sky, pulling his Nehru

jacket tighter against the chill of the night.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


To be cont'd

===

  
  


-DuAnn

  
  
  
  


Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you. Not as

the world gives, give I unto you. Do not let your hearts

be troubled and do not be afraid. 

-John 14:27

  
  
  
  


===

  
  


-DuAnn

  
  
  
  


Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you. Not as

the world gives, give I unto you. Do not let your hearts

be troubled and do not be afraid. 

-John 14:27

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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